


Honeysuckle

by 0shadow_panther0



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Play, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gentle femdom, Shameless Smut, i love these two so fucking much, mute corvo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0shadow_panther0/pseuds/0shadow_panther0
Summary: His eyes are warm, his hands rough and calloused and capable of great violence and incredible gentleness in equal measure, and Jessamine has never felt love of this intensity before.





	Honeysuckle

**Author's Note:**

> its three thousand words of pure, filthy, self-indulgent smut. that's it.

Jessamine steeples her hands under her chin, closing her eyes for a moment in an attempt to will away her rapidly worsening headache. Piles of paper are strewn across her desk, highlighted by the sunlight streaming from the window.

There’s a soft rap against her door- _tap tap tap_ \- and she calls an absent-minded “Come in.” The lack of introduction is introduction enough, and her eyes flicker up for a moment as Corvo strides in, outfitted in full regalia even in the heat of Dunwall’s summer midday.

‘Busy?’ Corvo signs, an amused tilt on his lips.

“Mm,” she mumbles, lifting a hand to her temple. “Absolutely miserable.” She tilts her head up a bit, leaning back in her chair slightly to catch a better look at her Lord Protector’s face as he approaches. “Please?”

Corvo huffs in a manner that she’s come to recognize as laughter and obliges readily, bending at the waist to press a warm, smiling kiss against her mouth. Jessamine sighs contentedly, lips quirking at the rasp of his evening stubble across her skin.

She can feel the heat radiating off of him, warmer than usual, and there’s a faint scent of sweat and dust that clings to him like musk. Training the guard perhaps, or simply training himself.

They pull apart briefly, and, chaste as it was, Corvo looks dazed from the kiss, eyes half-lidded and tanned skin glowing with a faint flush.

Her fingers ghost along the line of his cheek, and he leans into the touch with a breathy exhale, a flash of pink darting out to wet his lips.

“Hm?” she murmurs.

He turns ever redder at her smug, teasing tone and glances away, a hand bashfully covering his mouth.

“Aren’t you hot in all that?” Jessamine asks, deciding to show a little mercy and put a pause on teasing him. Besides, Corvo looks almost as uncomfortable as she is miserable, dressed in at least three layers of overcoats made of the stiff, unforgiving fabric that Gristol fashion seems to favor with men.

‘Not hot,’ he signs, then pauses to tug at his collar. ‘But uncomfortable.’

Which is understandable, she thinks, considering that he hails from Serkonos. The summers there grow far hotter than Gristol’s, and what few clothing styles Jessamine has seen emphasize loose, billowing shirts and gauzy wraps.

“You should change,” she comments absentmindedly, attention turning back to her papers. “I still have some work to do.”

Corvo’s sigh whispers by her ear like a promise, and he leans over to press one more kiss to the top of her head before retreating to his quarters- conveniently adjacent to her own- and Jessamine reluctantly switches her gaze from his retreating back to the long lines of ink.

—

It’s well into the evening by the time the final stack of paper is set aside.

Jessamine sighs, massaging her temples and leaning back. She draws her arms up in a long stretch, rolling her stiff shoulders.

There’s a flutter of movement behind her and she twists to catch sight of Corvo, dressed down in a white linen shirt, sleeves uncuffed and pushed to the elbows, and a pair of dark breeches that cling to the thick muscles of his thighs.

Jessamine’s eyes flicker from his legs to his face, and there’s a crooked tilt to his lips that implies he very much knew what he was doing when he dressed himself.

“Dashing as always, Lord Protector,” she comments, giving him one last up-and-down so he knows she likes what she says.

He smiles, looking a little smug.

She grimaces as a muscle at the base of her neck twinges, and she turns back and slumps in her chair.

A soft patter signals Corvo’s approach. He gestures briefly to her neck and signs, ‘May I?’

Despite not being entirely sure what he’s asking permission for, Jessamine nods her assent.

He gently pushes her slightly forward and his hands flit to her collar, unbuttoning it and sliding her shirt past her shoulders.

His fingertips, calloused and warm, brush across the plane between her shoulder blades. He finds a tight knot with practiced efficiency and presses down with the pads of his thumb.

The sound Jessamine makes is only barely not a moan, head dropping forward as Corvo massages the tension from her shoulders as well as any therapist.

He lets out a low, breathy chuckle, pausing to rest his palm at the small of her back.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Jessamine mumbles, eyes falling to half mast under his ministrations.

She feels rather than hears his responding rumble, sighing as his hands return to her stiff muscles.

She loses track of time under his touch, his hands warm and heavy on her skin. She crosses her arms and rests them on her desk, pillowing her head in the crooks of her arms and humming contentedly.

Corvo is gentle and meticulous, the hugeness of his hands and roughness of his callouses in stark contrast with the soothing calm his touch brings to her.

Eventually, his movements slow, shifting from a massage to simply smoothing his hand over the expanse of her back, skimming the edge where skin meets the lace of her corset.

He dips down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, and Jessamine tilts her head, exposing the length of her neck. A huff of breath warms her skin, and Corvo trails his lips up, lingering at her jaw.

She laughs, rising and hooking her hands behind his neck and tugging him in for a kiss.

He smiles into it, and Jessamine cups his cheek, corners of her mouth quirking at the texture of his unshaven jaw. She deepens the kiss, and Corvo parts his lips obligingly. Her tongue traces the edge of his teeth and coaxes a startled huff from him as she nips at his bottom lip.

When she finally draws back he’s hazy-eyed and flushed, lips parted and reddened, and Jessamine bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from pulling him for another kiss. She doubts he would complain, of course, but at this point she has several other plans.

She sheds her half-buttoned shirt, draping it across the arm of her chair, and slips off her breeches and toes off her shoes, leaving her in her corset, panties, garter, and stockings.

She hears Corvo’s startled intake of breath and smirks, unpinning her hair from its tight bun. It falls down her back in waves, and she ruffles it with a hand.

“Would you help me with my corset?” she asks calmly, turning her back towards Corvo.

She hears his tentative step forward, then feels his calloused fingers brush her hair over her shoulder.

He deftly undoes the laces on her back, loosening each tie with careful intent.

Jessamine sighs with relief as the whalebone support loosens around her ribs, stretching languidly as Corvo tugs the whole piece over her head and sets it aside in her chair.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, turning to press another kiss to the line of his jaw.

Corvo is flushing darkly now, eyes meeting hers for only a moment before flickering down- and then back up, staring straight ahead.

Jessamine stifles a snort of laughter before tugging him down by his collar and kissing him deeply, and his hands reflexively find her hips as she drapes her arms over his shoulders.

“I believe you’re looking rather overdressed for the situation,” she comments cheekily as they pull back for air. “And I think I know just how to rectify the situation.”

He exhales softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and her hands smooth over his collar and unfasten the first few buttons of his shirt, and Corvo pulls away just long enough to yank the offending garment over head and toss it to the side.

Jessamine’s smirk is coquettish and perhaps a little hungry, and her fingertips trail down his chest, past his navel, and down to the band of his breeches.

Corvo swallows thickly, eyes at half-mast.

Jessamine’s hand travels lower, barely brushing against the growing heat and nails scratching at his thighs.

His hips jerk and his head drops, brow pressed against her shoulder, and she can feel his unsteady breaths against her skin.

She grins, tongue running along the edge of her teeth, and unbuttons his breeches- and her eyebrows raise when she tugs them down and her hands meet bare skin.

“Expecting this?” she teases, her voice low, and Corvo whines quietly against her shoulder.

Jessamine pushes his breeches down and he kicks them off hastily, and Corvo’s hands cradle her hips, thumbs brushing the belt of her garters.

She hums thoughtfully. “Eager, aren’t you?” she murmurs, and ducks her head to catch a dusky nipple between her teeth.

His breath hitches and his grip tightens briefly before he lets go entirely.

Jessamine pulls back with a coy smile and Corvo’s responding half-glare is accusatory.

‘You’re teasing,’ he signs, and Jessamine laughs, unclipping her stockings before hooking her thumbs through her panties and garters and stripping them off with one smooth motion.

“You love it,” she replies, tugging him towards the bed by the wrists.

She flops back onto the mattress, and Corvo drops on top of her, bracing himself so he doesn’t crush her under his weight.

He grins crookedly above her, and Jessamine huffs, pushing his shoulders.

Corvo rolls over obligingly and she straddles his hips, splaying her hands on his chest. “What do you want?” she asks, head tilting.

Corvo pauses, and then his flush darkens and his hands flash through a series of signs. ‘Oil.’

Jessamine blinks. “Oil,” she mouths, and the realization dawns at her the same time Corvo pointedly turns his head to her bedside table, still red.

“Feeling needy, aren’t you?” she murmurs, leaning over to open the drawer and retrieving the tin of oil.

Corvo grumbles, but silences abruptly when Jessamine rocks back against his hardness, biting his lip.

“You sure you want it?” she asks soothingly, and Corvo nods, almost frantic, and Jessamine slides off of him and shifts back so she’s seated between his legs.

She pops off the top of the tin and dips her fingers in, rubbing them together until the oil thoroughly coats her skin.

Corvo watches her with dark, contemplative eyes. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he breathes out, long and slow.

Jessamine pauses, setting aside the tin and resting her free hand on his knee. “Good?”

Corvo’s mouth quirks a little, bringing his fingertips to his lips and then dropping his hand into his open palm. ‘Good.’

Jessamine breathes a tiny sigh of relief, grabbing his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Good,” she repeats, and allows herself a huff of laughter.

Sitting back once again, she shifts Corvo’s legs open a little wider, gently pressing an oil-slick finger to his ass.

He sucks in a sharp breath and tenses, and Jessamine rests a hand on his knee.

“Relax,” she chides gently, and waits until he loosens up to finally press a finger into him.

Corvo releases a long, shuddering sigh, and Jessamine continues the pressure, gentle but insistent.

When she crooks her finger, the response is immediate. His back arches, head thrown back and mouth parted as a rush of air escapes his chest like he’s just been punched, and his hands ball into fists in the fine cloth of her sheets.

Delighted, Jessamine repeats the motion, and Corvo’s reaction is no less pleasant after a second showing. He gasps for breath, hands twisted into the sheets like they’re his only anchor.

His hips jerk with increasing urgency, cock twitching and entirely unattended and Jessamine smooths her palm across his thigh.

“Too much?” she asks.

Corvo shakes his head in a sharp, jerky motion. ‘Feels good. Don’t stop,’ he signs with trembling hands. Then, a palm circling over his heart, almost like an afterthought. ‘Please.’

“Glad to see you haven’t forgotten your manners,” Jessamine replies cheekily.

He huffs another one of his breathy, almost noiseless laughs, which abruptly cuts off into a gasp as she rewards his good behavior with a touch that makes his back arch off the bed and heels dig into the mattress.

She drags her fingers up and Corvo’s head snaps back, every muscle going taut, and throws an arm over his eyes.

Jessamine tuts, pulling away and reaching up to gently grab his wrist and tug it away, and he glances down at her, hazy and confused.

“I want to see your face,” she says plainly.

Corvo flushes even brighter, if possible, and hides his face in the crook of his elbow. Jessamine stifles a snort of laughter and bats his arm away.

With a huff, he fists his hands in her sheets instead, head tilted away and hair falling over his face, and Jessamine leans forward again to brush it away and tucks it behind his ear with a gentle hand before pressing warm, soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good?”

He exhales and nods, turning his head to return the kiss.

She hums approvingly, trailing her lips down the column of his throat, lingering at his collarbone and chest to leave a few reddened marks that make his breath hitch, and then down even further, past his navel.

Corvo watches her with something approaching reverence, mouth falling open as she presses open-mouthed kisses to the inside of his thigh and runs a hand along the curve of his hips. Her fingers press back into him and he bucks into the touch, eyes going hazy.

She keeps her movements slow and deliberate, carefully shifting herself so she can see his face- she sits with her feet tucked to the side, her knees brushing the pillows under Corvo’s back.

He’s practically a puddle under her ministrations, as pliable as sun-warmed wax. The initial intensity seems to have worn off somewhat, tapering into a languid heat.

Tentatively, she reaches for his cock, running her thumb over the crown. It’s hot under her touch, and Corvo reacts like he’s been shocked, every muscle going taut again and an almost-whine escaping from his throat.

She rubs small, insistent circles on the head of his cock, and Corvo’s chest heaves with shuddering, ragged breaths, shivering under her hands.

He rips his hands from her sheets, fumbling through signs and trembling almost too much to be deciphered. ‘Stop. Too close. Want to-’ he pauses, averting his eyes- ‘want to be in you.’

Jessamine pulls away and his hands drop down limply as he pants for breath, looking anyway but at her smirk.

“Inside me?” she purrs. “How brazen.” She rises to her knees, reaching for his hand and bringing it to her dripping dripping folds.

Corvo’s eyes goes wide, and his tongue wets his lips.

“Do you need more time?” Jessamine asks.

He pauses, looking the only thing he wants is to keep going, but he nods slowly.

Jessamine hums, starting to slip off him, but Corvo catches her attention when a positively smarmy smirk crosses his mouth, and he raises his fingertips to his lips. ‘May I eat?’

It takes her a moment to decipher the signs- it is, unfortunately, at times too direct and not entirely meant for innuendo- but when she does the snort of laughter that escapes her is horrifically undignified.

Corvo’s grin only widens when she leans forward, still smiling, to press a warm, chaste kiss against his mouth.

“Should I lay on my back?” Jessamine asks as she pulls away.

Corvo shakes his head, hands hooking under her thighs and tugs her forward, until her knees are on either side of his head.

He pulls her down, and the last Jessamine sees of him is his crooked smirk before he buries his face between her thighs.

Jessamine gasps as he laps at her folds, threading her fingers through his hair.

Corvo’s tongue dips into her cunt for just a moment before he presses the flat of it against her clit, Her grip on his hair tightens to a degree that must be painful, but Corvo just hums lowly, dragging his tongue in long, broad strokes against her.

“ _Corvo_ ,” Jessamine breathes, shivering at the rasp of his stubble against her hypersensitive skin, heat coiling low in her belly.

Unconsciously, she rocks her hips, grinding down against his mouth, and his one of his hands slides across her thigh, callouses catching on the material of her stockings, to grab a generous handful of her rear. His tongue circles her clit, and he slips two fingers into her cunt and presses _just so_ -

Jessamine’s orgasm shudders through her like a wave, voice rising to a moan.

When she finally comes to herself, she untangles her fingers from Corvo’s hair with a murmured apology and slides down to sit on his chest, knees weak.

Corvo’s eyes are hazy, tongue swiping over his mouth. He’s covered in her slick from nose to chin, lips reddened and looking so thoroughly debauched that it sends fresh sparks of arousal arcing up her spine.

“I think,” Jessamine says, “we’ve waited long enough.”

She shifts back, straddling his hips and wrapping her hand around the base of his cock.

Corvo exhales shakily, hands running down her hips and over her thighs, and Jessamine slowly lowers herself onto his cock, a tiny noise escaping her chest as the head pushes past her entrance.

He tenses completely, hands dropping and clutching at her sheets as he slips in with painstaking slowness. It feels like a small eternity before his cock is fully inside her, the stretch and heat coaxing another moan out of her.

Jessamine bites her lip, rocking experimentally. The shifting pressure prompts a shudder from both of them, and finally she starts to fuck him in earnest.

Corvo whines, hips bucking up to meet hers with desperate fervor.

His hands are on her hips, fingers flexing. There’s no doubt that his fingers could easily dig into her skin with bruising strength, but even as far gone as he is, he restrains himself. He’s always so careful with her, her Lord Protector, and she’s filled with a rush of love so overwhelming that she nearly doubles over with the intensity of it.

“Corvo,” she chants, every sense completely and utterly filled with him. “Corvo, Corvo- ah!- _Corvo_.”

He fumbles for her hand, the pace of his thrusts desperate and erratic, and presses her fingertips against his lips and she feels him mouth her name, fervent like a prayer.

Jessamine bears down hard on him- she leans back, hand moving to his thigh to brace herself, fingertips digging into the muscle. The position pushes him into a new angle, deeper, and she moans, arching her back as Corvo bucks up into her.

All at once Corvo surges up, pushing himself up and embracing her tightly. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his soundless submission mouthed against her shoulder.

Her nails rake scalding trails across his back, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, breathing praises in between gasps of pleasure.

Jessamine cums with a long moan, clenching around him, and Corvo fucks her through it. She clings to him desperately as he bucks up, and just as Jessamine teeters on the edge of overstimulation, his hips stutter and Corvo cums with a quiet groan.

Corvo flops bonelessly down, Jessamine pulled down on top of him with a squeak.

They drop to the mattress in a pile of tangled limbs, and Jessamine laughs softly and rests her head on his collar, tucked just under his chin. Corvo wraps his arms around her in a loose embrace, sighing contentedly.

“Mm,” Jessamine murmurs, tilting her head to kiss his jaw, the lingering taste of sweat and sex on her tongue. “We shouldn’t fall asleep like this. We’ll give the maids a fright in the morning.”

Corvo grumbles, tightening his hold and rolling them both on their sides, one arm reaching back to grab the blankets and yanking it over them. He curls around her protectively, radiating heat like a hearth.

Jessamine huffs, a warm smile tilting her lips, and snuggles closer. She can allow herself this, at least.


End file.
